Undercover
by Frankie McStein
Summary: An undercover mission goes wrong. But how was the cover blown?


Disclaimer- No. I won't. I refuse.  
*Loud crash followed by scary legal mumbling is heard in background*   
Oh ok. I don't own this. Some people who I have never met and most likely will never be lucky enough to meet do.  
*Turns to lawyers who are sulking in shadows that have conveniently appeared for them to hide in*  
Happy now?  
^___^  
  
  
Undercover  
  
Watch it! Yes! Now, get him! A loud crash echoed through the warehouse closely followed by two groans, one of pain, the other of disappointment.  
You had him! How could you miss? Another groan answered him. If any thing it was weaker than the first and within seconds, three concerned figures had gathered round the fallen man.  
Ray? C'mon sunshine, up you get.  
All right Doyle, I doubt it's that bad.  
Doubt what is not bad?  
The three jumped as Cowley walked over to them. Macklin and Towser stood, but Bodie remained where he was, crouched by Doyle's side.  
It seems he has taken an injury somewhere sir. We were just about to find where.  
Then find it man!  
Cowley looked down anxiously, though someone who didn't know him wouldn't have been able to tell. Bodie could tell, and it didn't help alleviate his own worry. Doyle's breathing was irregular, unsurprising considering he had just been fighting with Towser, but to Bodie's uneasy mind, it was a result of some terrible injury. Inwardly he was yelling at Doyle to get up. Outwardly he appeared so calm, he seemed almost disinterested. But his eye's were fixed intently on Doyle's still form, so that he didn't even notice Cowley's quick glance in his direction.  
Got it. The knife caught him in the side. Nothing to serious.  
Oh yeah? So why is he lying unconscious then! Macklin threw him a sharp glance, but at seeing the concern in Bodie's eye's, looked away again.  
I'd guess that the pain mixed with the exhaustion of the training was to much for him to handle.  
At this, a small groan was emitted and as one, all four present turned to see Doyle's eye's begin to open. Bodie lightly tapped his cheek and another groan was heard before his green eyes opened completely. They betrayed confusion and before Bodie could answer his unspoken question, Macklin knelt down besides him.  
Not a very good sign Doyle, passing out like that. Perhaps a few more sessions with Towser with prove beneficial.  
Any more of your beneficial sessions with him and I'm gonna think of a few more uses for that knife of yours and try them out on you. Bodie grinned as he heard the strength of his partners voice belying the paleness of his skin. Cowley grinned to, but only to himself. Then he looked down to where Bodie was still squatting besides Doyle.  
Funny. I don't seem to recall authorising training for you 3.7. To his credit, Bodie had the decency to look abashed.  
Yeah, well, I figured that, I mean... Cowley held out his hand.  
I don't want to hear it. You figured you would ignore the doctors orders to stay home and rest your leg until your ankle had healed fully.  
As it happens, it's a good thing, saves me from driving round to your place. Your last medical report came through with as near a perfect score as you've ever achieved, with a request to put you back on duty before you drive the medical staff crazy. So, as of now, your on light duties. Johnson has just reported that Archer has fallen ill so you'll be taking his place on the observation. Well what are you waiting for? You do have your own car here I suppose.  
Yes sir.  
Then go to it man. Throwing a last glance to where Doyle was still sitting on the floor, Bodie walked out. A second later, a car was heard puling away and Doyle recognised the sound of Bodie's Capri. He looked up to see Cowley staring down at him, an unfathomable expression in his eye's.  
I've got the briefing for you're next mission here to, Doyle. The seriousness of the older man's tone set alarm bells ringing, but before he could ask any questions, a photo was held under his nose. Despite his outward calm, anger began to boil under the surface.  
I thought the gang responsible for that were arrested.  
So did I.  
  
Bodie shifted in his chair, unconsciously casting a glance at the calendar on the wall. He caught the sound of a snicker and spun round to see Johnson look away.  
Something funny? Bodie's tone told Johnson he was in no mood for jokes and he sighed.  
It's only been 4 days Bodie. No one can get results in such a short time. You of all people should know how distrusting guys like this are. Bodie made an impatient noise and looked away.  
Look, I know this isn't what you want to hear but, this kind of sting, Doyle could be there for weeks. At this Bodie spun round again and the momentary stab of fear in his eye's was not missed.  
I'm perfectly aware of how long an operation of this kind is likely to last. Although Johnson had the impression he wanted to say more, he found himself looking at the back of Bodie's head once again. It was his turn to sigh. The last 4 days had been getting progressively worse, even more so since Doyle hadn't called in for over 30 hours. At that moment, Bodie's RT. crackled in to life. He had acknowledged the call before Johnson had looked back from the window and the tension drained out of his shoulders as he listened to what Betty told him.  
Thanks love. Keep me informed of any more news will you?   
Johnson missed the reply, but Bodie's chuckle as he replaced the RT. told him it was what he had expected to hear. Turning to retake his seat, Bodie caught Johnson's questioning glance and grinned.  
Doyle checked in bout 10 minutes ago. All progressing very well apparently. He's caught the attention of a few big men. Not the boss, but he thinks he's close to it. Could breakthrough within the next few days. The casualness in Bodie's voice was lost on Johnson, who hadn't forgotten the anxiety that had been on display just a few minutes ago. Nevertheless, he returned the grin and and turned back to the binoculars. After all, a Bodie faking casualness was better than a Bodie in a bad temper. The two sat in silence, studying the house opposite them, both wondering just how close to the inner circle Doyle was, and who it was whose attention he was trying to catch.  
  
God this is heavy. Hey, you! Get yer and give us a   
The man's voice registered surprise and then shock as he said,  
He dropped the cloth he had been using to polish glasses and trotted over to where the other man was waiting.  
Here. Take this box through to that room over there. Then come back and get some more.  
No problem. He lifted the box with apparent ease and was soon standing by the back door, lifting another.  
Hey, I know you! exclaimed the man who had called him over.  
No I don't think so, came the reply. I only just started working in London a few days ago. This is my first job here.  
You're the guy who frightened off those drunk coppers last night. I didn't know you worked the bar. I thought you was a bouncer. The man laughed as the bartender put his box down and extended his hand.  
Rich Duncan. Ow d'ya do?   
Mike West. I do what I need to quite well thanks. They both laughed and Mike noted the chipped tooth with curiosity.  
Ow'd you get that then?  
Same way I got this. Doyle gestured to his cheek and Mike saw the bone had been broken. He whistled through his teeth.  
Nasty. Get a little to frisky with your boss's wife did ya? Doyle laughed again, his cat like green eyes flashing in the dim light.  
Something like that. He picked up the box again and headed over to the back room. Mike shrugged and headed back to the truck that was waiting at the entrance to the alley, motor running. After a few quick words with the occupant, the motor was cut and the driver climbed out. They both headed back to the pub.  
Doyle was just closing the door of the back room, having placed the final box inside when he heard some one entering the pub. Keeping his stance casual, he walked back over to the bar, not looking at the two people who had just entered.  
If it's a drink your after you'll have to wait. We've just closed. A low voice brought is head round to the back door.  
I think we can manage with out if it's the same to you. You may not have heard much about me, Rich, but I've been hearing some very good reports about you. I watched you see those two drunken officers out of my establishment last night and your reported lack of questions about what you were carrying just now has led me to believe I can find good work for a man like you. Would you care to be on the receiving end of a rather drastic pay rise? Green eyes narrowed in response to this statement and a slight tension appeared in the man's shoulders.  
Pends what I'd be doing don't it?  
Think of it as a slight variation of what you did last night. It will be your job to see that people I no longer wish to be inside my bar leave when they are told to.  
You mean like a bouncer?  
Sort of. But you would only be ejecting the people I tell you to.  
Meaning I'd have to stay close to you?  
Exactly. Do you accept?  
Sure. Can't be all that hard.  
  
4.5 to Alpha One.  
Alpha One, come in 4.5.  
I'm in. The group's being led by a Miss Devins. She has need of a tough guy and apparently I fit the bill.  
That was fast.  
Yeah. I'm still not sure it isn't some kinda set up but I don't see how it could be.  
All right Doyle. You've gotten close. Now just get the information we need and get out. I don't want you in that place longer than you have to be.  
Acknowledged. 4.5 out.   
Cowley sighed. Doyle's uncertainty about the security of his cover seemed unfounded, and yet he had the same feeling. Shaking his head slightly, he called to Betty to tell Bodie that Doyle had checked in, knowing full well that Johnson would be the one to suffer if he didn't know.  
  
Get him out of here Rich, there's a dear.  
Right. C'mon pal. Lady says you gotta leave.  
I want my money. She owes me money. I've come to collect and I ain't leaving yer till she gives it me. Doyle walked over and stood behind the man's chair. Leaning over slightly, he grasped the man's shoulders and lifted him from the chair, spinning him round so he was looking him in the eye.  
Listen pal, he spat, putting heavy emphasis on the pal'.   
The lady here said it's time for you to leave. When someone here starts causing trouble about leaving, I step in to show them out. Coz it's not polite to ignore a lady, especially when she's asking you to leave her alone. Could get a man in a lot of trouble that, forcing his attention on an unappreciative young lady. Could get a man hurt. And I don't think you want to get hurt do you?  
He shook the terrified man roughly, causing him to hit his back on the table.  
Do you? he demanded, his eye's showing that he fully expected to get an answer.  
the luckless man replied.  
Doyle shifted so as his hand was resting on the man's shoulder's.  
Now, I'm gonna walk you out of here, call you a cab, set you down in it, and wave you good-bye. Then your gonna go home and carry on with your life, forgetting you have ever had a problem in this bar, right?  
  
As they walked through the crowded bar, Doyle was pleased to notice no one had paid any attention to them. As the night air swept through the deserted street, the man besides him shivered and Doyle looked at him again.  
What's your name? he asked, with a friendly tone to his voice.  
Frank. Frank Peters.  
Sorry about that little scene back there Frank. Do yourself a favour and keep out of that bar from now on. You'll only get your self in to trouble. Frank nodded, looking at him with puzzled eyes.  
  
As he said this, a taxi came down the street and Doyle flagged it down. He closed the door behind Frank and handed some money to the driver.  
You remember what I told you now. He saw the young man nod again as the taxi drove off and watched until it turned a corner. Then he turned and walked back on to the brightly lit pub. Liz was waiting for him at the same table as he had left her and he wasted no time getting over to her. He could tell even from that distance she was impatient about something.  
What were you doing out there? Giving him a lecture about the error of his ways? Doyle shook his head, grinning lopsidedly as he did.  
Just making sure he did as he was told and left. Don't want little idiots like that getting any ideas about coming back when no one's around. Might stumble in on something they weren't supposed to see. Liz's face lightened and Doyle heaved an internal sigh of relief.  
Quite right darling. I knew there was more to you then muscle.  
Doesn't look like he's got much of that either, came a muttering from behind him. He turned round slowly, to see a pale faced, weasly looking young man. He didn't recognise him and didn't say anything to him. Instead he fixed him with a stony glare that turned his eye's to ice and waited for the youth to say something else. Clearly uncomfortable under the hostile scrutiny, the young man turned to Liz, but she simply smiled and gestured for him to carry on. He did so, in a quiet, stammering manner.  
I...I mean, he looks more like a ballet dancer than the tough guy he's supposed to be. What's he gonna do to any one causing trouble? Pirouette at them? His voice had grown slightly stronger and he looked about at this comment, as though expecting laughter. But no one made a sound. Even the customers had fallen silent at the tension that had filled the atmosphere. Doyle watched the young man in front of him tense as he felt the eyes of every one in the bar on him and almost grinned to him self. He barely even needed to glare, the kid was scaring himself.  
You look scared enough. His wry voice cut through the air, spearing the young man as easily as a knife. The mouth on the youngster in front of him worked furiously for a moment, then closed again, his head dropping and his shoulders slumping.  
Cheer up kid, said Doyle with a grin. After all, I've had more practice at this than you. He added a chuckle that lightened the atmosphere and dispelled the tension. The customers turned back to their drinks and the chatter that had filled the room moments before resurfaced. Liz sighed and the sound brought the attention of Doyle and the youth to her.  
Sit down the both of you. You're going to be working together quite a lot from now on. I want you to get to know each other. Doyle looked at her in surprise, noting as he did the pleased expression on the youth's face. Obviously his opinion had just been radically altered.   
Rich, this is Lloyd. Lloyd, Rich. Doyle simply smiled as Lloyd extended his hand. It was dropped again quickly, accompanied by a slightly sheepish expression that reminded Doyle of Bodie's friend Marty.  
Lloyd is going to be watching you Rich. He could learn a lot, and needs to. So I want you to teach him.  
Teach im what? Doyle affected disinterest and got an angry glare in return.  
One man is all very well, but I like to feel secure. I want you to train Lloyd so as he can handle people just as well as you do, in case there's a bit of bother to big for one person.  
You expecting trouble then sweetheart?  
No more than usual. Take him out back if you want. There's plenty of space there for you to spar in if you need. With that, she rose from the table and headed in to the back room, leaving Doyle and Lloyd alone.  
Well, um, we getting started then? Doyle jumped at the question. His mind had been racing since he had see Lloyd's face and was trying to place the memory. He stood up suddenly, pleased to see Lloyd was on his feet in an instant to.  
Let's go. He sighed as he walked out. His mission had just become a lot more complicated.  
  
4.5 to Alpha One.  
Alpha One, come in 4.5.  
I've got a problem here sir. Miss Devins introduced me to her newest member of staff a few hours ago. A young kid, name of Lloyd James. She's asked me to train him but I don't think he need it.  
Your speaking in riddles man. Get to the point.  
I know him sir. He's with the Met. He was a rookie a few months before I left to join CI5. I don't think he remembers me but I'm positive it's him. Cowley frowned as he made a quick scan of a note lying on his desk.  
I've got some news for you Doyle. Sergeant Lloyd James was killed about thirty minutes ago when someone petrol bombed his house. Him, his wife and his partner Sergeant Gareth Tree were all caught in the blaze. The fire service is still trying to put it out, we wont know anything definite until the morning but it's for certain that none of them survived. He waited for a response, surprised by the anger he heard in the younger man's voice when he finally got it.  
I suppose it was sanctioned by our Miss Devins?   
Most likely. Her or the man with her. I don't imagine you'll be willing to drop the mission will you?   
Don't suppose so sir. What man?  
We're not sure yet.  
Doyle sighed and then carried on. I'll keep an eye open for any strange men hanging round. I'll check in again when I've got something to report. 4.5 out.  
Cowley's frown deepened. If Miss Devins could track down a Met. agent, why not a CI5 agent?  
  
Come on Bodie! You're worse than Doyle was! Macklin's voice continued but Bodie tuned it out. The faster he finished his training, the faster he would be back on the streets and by his partner's side. Allowing Macklin to distract him would only serve to get him knocked down, and he didn't want to let that happen again. Taking a deep breathe, he threw his weight forward, surprising Towser with sudden shift from defence to attack, throwing them both to the floor. He heard a thump as Towser's head came into contact with the floor and quickly rolled over, allowing Towser to stand up.  
How was that?  
Fine Bodie, just fine. I'd say you're ready to get out of my warehouse and start annoying Cowley again. Towser just nodded, grinning to show his agreement. All three jumped as the doors slid open to reveal Cowley and Susan.  
How is he Macklin?  
Ready to get back to work I think. Seems to be doing well enough.   
Good. Come on lad, my car's just outside. Thanks Macklin.  
Yeah thanks. If I ever want to be taken apart I'll know where to come.  
Any time. Same goes for Doyle. Always a pleasure trying to distract you two. Bodie just grinned in response and ran out of the warehouse.  
So what's going in he asked as soon as they were out on the main road. The tension radiating off Cowley was catching and he was beginning to feel nervous.  
We're not sure yet. Three days ago, a Met. agent, his wife and his partner were killed in a petrol bombing.  
Well that's a shame but how does that affect us?  
The agent's name was Lloyd James and about half an hour after he was killed Doyle checked in to say that the Devins group had been infiltrated by a Met. officer.  
Let me guess, said Bodie grimly, Doyle hasn't checked in since.  
Right. Now it could be nothing. Checking in isn't exactly the easiest thing to do when your undercover I know. But I've sent some of our people in to the pub where he was working and there's been no sign of him.  
So his cover's been blown. Cowley simply nodded.  
Damn. So what do we do now? A quick glance at his face told Cowley that Bodie was in no mood for vague answers.  
There's nothing we can do. Except wait and see what happens. The answer was not welcome and Bodie made his feelings known by slamming his hand in to the dashboard.  
Wait? Meanwhile what happens to Ray? If his cover's been blown he's gonna need help.  
And if he's just having problems checking in and we go storming in there, then what? No lad, we wait. Seeing Bodie was about to interrupt he held up a hand.  
I don't like it any more than you, but it's the only thing we can do. Slowly, Bodie nodded and when he did speak, his voice was heavy with anger and fear.  
We wait.  
  
The small room echoed with laughter.  
That's 35 quid you owe me! Why don't you just give it up?  
The words reverberated harshly in Doyle's head and a small pain filled moan escaped him. The men sitting around the small table paid him no attention, save to begin speaking louder. As his awareness slowly returned to him, Doyle realised that he was tied to the floor, arms above his head and legs apart. The only injury he could find was on his head, presumably where he had been hit. No other part of him was hurting and it made him nervous. Why hadn't the men who attacked him carried on hitting him after he had fallen? He cast his mind back to the attack, ignoring the pounding above his ear and forcing himself to remember every detail.  
  
_I suppose it was sanctioned by our Miss Devins.  
Most likely. Her or the man with her. I don't suppose you would be willing to drop the mission will you?  
Don't suppose so sir. What man?  
We're not sure yet.  
Doyle sighed and then carried on.   
I'll keep and eye open for any strange men hanging round the place. I'll check in again when I've got something to report. 4.5 out.  
Doyle replaced his R/T in the glove compartment of his car and stepped out, careful to lock and close the door after him. Catching the noise of a car pulling up to the mouth of the alley, he hurried in to the pub. Taking a seat at a table in the corner, he had just settled himself when Liz and a few other men walked in. Seeing him, she smiled and walked over, choosing a seat next to him.  
Rich, I'm glad your here. I have something to tell you about that young man who you were sparing with earlier today, Lloyd. Careful to keep his expression neutral, Doyle took a sip of the drink that had appeared before him.  
What about im? Don't tell me e's changed is mind. E was a good fighter. Liz smiled and shook her head.  
I don't think he had a mind to change. The little fool was no worker. He was a Sergeant in the Metropolitan Police Force. Doyle arranged his face in an expression of surprise, even as he felt his insides twist at the joyous tone of the woman's voice. He looked at her, hardly able to believe the happy sparkle in her eye's.  
We just paid him a visit. He was almost to drunk to recognise me. His wife was delightful and his partner quite charming. He had gone round to discuss the operation. The idiots were actually laughing about how easily he had infiltrated my group'. But we soon sobered them up. Didn't we Matthew? This was addressed to a large, muscular man who had taken a seat the other side of Doyle.  
Sure did. It was great to see how quickly they stopped giggling with each other when we pulled out our guns.  
Then what did you do. Doyle hated the interest that was in his voice, but reminded himself it was necessary. Matthew laughed, as did the other men who had walked in with him and Liz.  
We left. And then we threw a couple lighted bottled of petrol through his window. They all laughed again.  
I thought it would be good experience if you came with us next time we paid a house visit. Liz looked at him closely. We're going tomorrow night.   
Out again so soon? I would've thought you'd lay low for a while. Let the 'eat die down a bit, you know. Liz shook her head.  
We've got two more to do. We get one done tomorrow and the other the next night. With any luck, the police will think these two are unconnected to Lloyd and look else where.   
Who are the other two then, Doyle asked, knowing it was risky, but hoping he could get a warning to them somehow.  
Oh, you're going to like it darling. The first is called George Cowley, he's the head of a little known agency called CI5. The other is one of his operatives, a man called Bodie. William Andrew Philip Bodie. He's been sniffing round some of our operations for a few days now and it's making me nervous, and I do so like to feel secure. At this, a man Doyle hadn't noticed stepped out of the shadows, a menacing grin plastered on his face.  
It's not something I'm going to have to worry about much now though. Rich, I'm sure introductions are not in order. This is my partner. Her light voice suddenly got harder, and Doyle found himself easily able to see her standing on front of a burning house, watching with glee.  
He's been telling me some very interesting things about you, Mr. Doyle. You had us all fooled. Bad luck for you that he came back so soon. If he hadn't you may just have gotten away with it.  
Good to see you again Ray.  
You bastard! How the ell did you survive that bullet? If you had any... The rest of the sentence was lost as Doyle slumped forward on to the table. Matthew was standing behind him, the barrel of his gun in his hand, the butt still hovering over Doyle's head. He raised his arm to hit him again but a strong, lightly scared arm stopped him.  
I don't think that's necessary. He peered down at Doyle who was still moving slightly.  
The drug I put in his drink should be kicking in just about now.  
  
_Doyle opened his eyes and shook his head to try and clear the fog that was surrounding him. This time, someone in the room noticed.  
Ah, Ray. It's been such a long time since I saw you last. Crouched on the dock, gun in hand. But it wasn't you who shot me was it Ray? I was right wasn't I? Had the drop on you, psychologically, didn't I? You crouched there, with your partner yelling at you to shoot, and you didn't. Lucky for you the ship's captain had no such qualms, wasn't it Ray?  
Yeah. Looks like he was some one who had the drop on you. Seems to me that he knew you would run. He aimed ahead of you. If you had stayed still, his shot would have hit the dock, he would have had to re- aim. But you most obligingly ran into his bullet. We thought it had killed you. He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice and his tormentor laughed as he heard it.  
Oh it should have done. Would have done, if it weren't for Liz. She was keeping an eye on me the whole time, had some of her men following to make sure I got safely onboard. Quite how she got the officials involved to go alone with the death story I don't know. She always was quite resourceful. Doyle laughed.  
You always said you taught me every thing I knew, glad to finally know who taught you. Anger creased his captors face and his foot shot out, catching Doyle on the side of the head. The pounding there immediately doubled and blackness threatened to overwhelm him. Sheer will power kept his eyes open and after a while his vision cleared. His senses returned enough for him to register someone gagging him, but not enough to register the slight sting of a needle entering his upper arm. By the time his hands and feet had been untied and then handcuffed, he was dead to the world.  
  
Bodie? My office. All heads had lifted at the sound of the restroom door being opened and then turned to look at Bodie. The shadows under his eye's were the only testament to how deeply affected he was by the disappearance of his partner. As he walked out of the room, Murphy sighed.  
This is unbearable. Ray's been gone four days now and I don't think Bodie's left the office since then. How much longer can he go on like this?  
Jax looked at his friend as he stood up and stretched.  
Until Ray is found and safely back on duty, I don't think Bodie or Cowley are going to be getting much rest. Murphy sighed again.  
I hate this waiting around. Without warning he slammed his fist into the filing cabinet next to him.  
Why don't they tell us anything? He sank wearily back into his chair, head in his hands. No one said that there may not be anything to tell. Even without Bodie around, no one dared say that Doyle may not be alive to be found.  
  
The glass smashed as it hit the floor, sending the fiery amber liquid gushing over the carpet. All Bodie saw was the face of his partner. There was a large gash across his forehead that curled round his left eye. A bruise had formed on his cheek, covering the broken bone and another was clearly visible on his temple. Both eyes were bruised and swollen and blood had covered the left side of his face. That was just what they could see.  
Any note?  
Cowley recognised Bodie's tone. Cold anger, carefully hidden, but detectable none the less. A dangerous anger that Cowley knew would spell certain disaster for the people responsible for hurting Doyle.  
No note. There was a tape. He pushed play and watched Bodie tense as he recognised the voice.   
Hello Major. I'm not going insult your intelligence by introducing myself. And I'm not going to waste my time with idle threats. We, Miss Devins gang and my self, have Ray. At this moment he is unconscious. I'm sure you've seen the picture. We're going to play a little game. Ray has been collecting evidence on this... active little gang. We want his evidence. Go to Ray's flat first and don't try anything cute. Just give us the evidence and we'll give you Ray. But you better call in every trick you can to find it. The longer you take to get us the evidence, the longer we keep Ray.  
Silence reigned. Cowley kept his eye's on Bodie, worried by the paleness that had crept over his skin. Slowly, the younger man sank into a chair, his face frozen. When he spoke, the words were barely audible.  
Barry Martin.  
  
Bodie winced as he heard glass splinter under his foot, but pushed the slight pang of guilt he felt away. There would be plenty of time to get Doyle's things replaced when he was back. For now all he wanted to focus on was finding the evidence they knew he had hidden somewhere.  
This is getting us nowhere. You know Doyle better than any one else. Think Bodie. Where would he have hidden it?  
It must be somewhere where he knows we can find it. He's not stupid enough to believe his cover would never get blown. It must be somewhere no one who doesn't know him would think to look, but somewhere people who do know him would easily be able to find it. His brow furrowed in thought and his eye's lost their focus.  
Cowley's tone was soft and Bodie knew what was coming. You're not going to be able to think properly now. You haven't slept properly for almost five days. Go home and get some rest. Seeing Bodie preparing to argue, Cowley carried on quickly.  
An exhausted man is no good to me and no good to Doyle either. He needs us all to be at our best now and your practically asleep on your feet. He paused, knowing his comment about Doyle would have caught Bodie's attention.  
He needs you to be awake and alert, to find that evidence. To Cowley's relief, Bodie nodded and walked out of the flat. Seconds later, all present heard a screech of tires as Bodie's gold Capri left the curb and several sighs were heard. Cowley looked around at his agents, a few of whom were still looking in the direction of the door.  
Come on people, he snapped briskly. Until we find the evidence Doyle collected, we're not going to know what to use to fool these maniacs. At these words, every man present turned back to the task in hand, each praying that every object moved would reveal the object of their slightly frenzied search.  
  
Some one was hitting him. He tried to move his head away but found he seemed to have no control over what he was doing. His head rolled to one side and then back to the position it had been in before he had been disturbed. He thought he heard someone laugh and then a voice broke in on his dreams.  
C'mon Ray. Up and at'em. He recognised that voice. He knew he should listen to it. He wasn't sure why but it brought a wave of panic crashing down on him that he was sure shouldn't be there. He registered another slap on his cheek, harder this time and the pain brought his senses rushing back to him. Barry Martin.  
Good morning.   
His voice was no where as steady or clear as he wanted it to be, but it seemed to have an effect on Barry. He stopped his incessant tapping and it seemed to Doyle as though he had stepped away. The punch to his unprotected stomach, when it came, was completely unexpected.  
The pain ripped through his already agonised body and his first instinct was to curl up, protect himself. But he couldn't. As before, he was tied to the floor, arms above him. He had no option but to live with the pain that was assaulting his body from every possible area. The laugh sounded again, echoed this time by a more feminine sounding voice.  
Miss Devins. His chest and throat objected to this un- necessary exertion and left him in no doubt of serious internal injuries at the fire that spread from his lungs and ribs. But it was imperative that he make them think they weren't succeeding in wearing him down. Or would that just make them hit him again? If that was the approach they took, he didn't think he would be able to hold on.  
Bodie. That's why you've got to hold on. You don't have a choice in the matter. You stopped having a choice in matters like this the day you were made partners. If you go, he goes. You can't let him down like that. And Cowley. He's depending on you to get that evidence to him. Oh God, the evidence! That's what all this is about.' Abruptly he realised that Liz was saying something to him.  
Doyle? I know you can hear me. There's something very important I'm going to ask you and if you answer me truthfully, and your answer pays off, you can go. I promise you it will all be over. All you have to do is give me the name of a place. The place where you hid the evidence linking Barry and myself to some unsavoury business that has taken place in this town. Despite himself, Doyle found he wanted to laugh, or at least smile. He was right. They wanted the evidence. All he had to do was not tell them and they would have no choice but to keep him alive. On the other hand, if he did tell them, he wouldn't stand a chance.   
Why don't you get Barry to ask CI5 to help you? They've always been most obliging to him in the past. Or did that feeling of goodwill and fellowship end when you tried to kill Cowley? Do you know, I think it did. So I have no intention of helping you now.  
To his surprise, both Liz and Barry were laughing. It was Barry who told him why.  
CI5 are helping Ray. They're at your flat right now, turning the place over. If they're lucky, they'll find the stuff. If not, they'll be looking for a replacement operative. I'd rather have the evidence in my hands but lets face it, if they don't find it, no one will. That leaves us with only one thing to take care of, a single, solitary witness. You  
On that note, he and Liz left the room, and Doyle was alone again. With the drug still coursing through his system and the continual spasms of pain racking his body, he quickly sank back in to oblivion, his last conscious thought being a hurried mental plea to his partner for a rapid rescue.  
  
I've got it sir. I think I know where he would have hidden the evidence. Cowley looked at the shadows still present on Bodie's face and frowned. Then he looked at the barely disguised desperation in his eye's and nodded to Murphy.  
Get there then. Fast as you can. Murphy, I'd suggest that means letting Bodie drive.  
He turned back to the careful disassembly of a table, one Bodie recognised as having taken him and Doyle three quarters of a day to put together. He grinned at the look that would be present on his partners face when he saw it had to be put together again. A brief look of grief flittered across his face as he thought of how life would be without his partner, and then disappeared.  
Ray is alive and I'm gonna to find him. He's not gonna to give up on me and I'm not gonna to give up on him.' Unbeknown to him,a look of extreme determination set on his face as an accompaniment to this thought. Several people who were on the street hurried past him, unsettled by the look. Murphy just smiled, knowing that he would save his anger for the men who had riled his temper. In this case, the men who had taken his partner from him. He winced as the Capri tore away from the curb, terrifying the other drivers on the road. Murphy just had time to wonder if this was why Doyle was always complaining about his partner's driving before abandoning all thoughts to the simple act of hanging on to the door handle and not falling on to Bodie's lap.  
  
Bodie? Where are the ell are ya? C'mon mate, I can't have my partner deserting me now can I. Need your elp now pal, get a bloody move on!' A sudden increase in the pain stemming from his head almost sent him spiralling back into unconsciousness, but his will was as strong as ever, as was the desire to keep up a strong front. For a moment he was hopelessly disorientated, names and faces became mixed up with events, and he was at a loss as to the explanation of why he was hurting so much, or why he was hoping so desperately for Bodie to put in an appearance. Then Liz spoke, and it all came rushing back.  
I just thought you may be interested to hear what your organisation was up to now. He felt an irrational desire to tell Liz that CI5 belonged expressly to Cowley but his body wouldn't co- operate and he remained silent.  
Most of the team is sounding your favourite places, friends houses, pubs, that sort of thing. Imagine my surprise when I was informed of the actions of a certain Mr. William Bodie.   
Just Bodie.   
Why the hell did I tell her that?' He didn't have time to wonder for long.  
As if I care what he prefers to be called. Her voice became suddenly cold, and with out meaning to, Doyle shivered.  
He and another member of this group of yours has gone rushing off to a little police station on the outskirts of London. I'm convinced you could tell us why if you wanted to, but I don't think that it is necessary. He obviously feels that he has a good idea where you have hidden the evidence we are so anxious to get. His ease in gaining permission to go out on this little seeking expedition has Barry believing your commander is willing to be sensible and give us what we want. I however am not so easily convinced.  
For that matter, neither am I. Wonder what the Cow's up to now.' Hard as he may try to talk, Doyle found himself incapable of any more complicated then an agonised moan. This brought a sadistic smile to the face of Liz, who knelt down to see his face more clearly.  
You know, I don't think the evidence is going to matter much in a few days. It will be easily dismissed as so much conjecture and hearsay if you're not there to back it up. By the looks of you, I wouldn't say you're going to last long enough to do that, even if CI5 do out smart us. She stood to leave, and it was as she was reaching for the door handle that Doyle finally found his voice.  
You're wrong there Miss Devins. It was costing him all the strength he had conserved to talk, but he managed to keep his voice steady, and cold.  
I have no intentions of leaving you or any member of your gang able to get away from your crimes this time. There are to many of them. I have no idea how you have gotten away with them in the past but I swear that I will see to it personally that you don't get away with any more. Something in his flint like voice had captured her attention, for she had turned away from the door and now she walked back over to him.  
How much evidence do you have on us? Her voice, so confident and assured, was now barely a trembling whisper. He looked up at her. His body was rebelling against him now. Every nerve ending was screaming at him to give in, to surrender once again to the softness of the velvety embrace of oblivion. But he drew on every ounce of will power he possessed to keep his gaze steady.  
  
With this, he passed out once again, but it had been more than sufficient. Liz ran from the room, her face pale and her eyes wild.  
He will destroy us!' she cried, stumbling in to the room where Barry was sitting.  
He knows he can and he told me he will! I believe him! He will destroy us! Barry caught her up in his arms and held he close, whispering words of comfort to her.  
Ray's good, I won't even try to deny that. But good enough to bring us down? That I doubt. Maybe, if Cowley had had him and Bodie working on this together, but Bodie doesn't even know where Ray's hidden the evidence. There's nothing they can do. If they find the evidence, they will have no choice but to give it to us in order to save Ray. If they don't find it, then we have nothing to worry about coz they won't get Ray back, it will only be their word against ours. Any way, whilst all their agents are frantically searching, Ray is getting weaker.   
Liz's head came up at this and he rushed on, anxious to avoid a confrontation if it was at all possible. You may be not be able to tell it, but I half trained him, I know the signs. He can't hold out much longer, and I'm willing to bet the evidence he's collected is worthless without his statement to back it up. Now don't you worry, I'll see to it that you're taken away from here.  
  
Liz pulled away from him at this and looked him directly in the eye.  
I'm not leaving you.  
I'm sorry to say, my dear, that you have no choice.  
Liz staggered away in surprise as Barry's knife plunged into her stomach. Hands covering the mortal wound, her eye's betrayed fear and confusion as blood dripped from between her fingers, falling to the carpet. Slowly, she sank to her knees, then collapsed, her eye's remaining fixed on Barry.  
I am sorry my dear. But I, like you, like to feel secure, and I couldn't do that knowing you had been so careless as to allow a cop to infiltrate our group. Not only that, but you allowed him to collect evidence on our little activities. If we do manage to get out of this, I could never trust you again. It's like you always say dear, sloppiness must be severely punished. He reached down and placed a hand against the slim white throat, but he already knew she was dead. His aim was to good to allow her to have survived. He pulled the knife out of her lifeless body and wiped it clean on her shirt, shaking his head as he did so.  
It's to bad, he muttered to himself as he walked out of the room. She was such a charming creature.  
  
C'mon Bodie. It's not here and no one seems to know anything about anything now can we please leave? Murphy's tone was so plaintive, Bodie almost smiled.  
It's the only place I can think of. He'd never leave it in his place and I can't see him endangering anybody outside of CI5 by leaving it with them unless they were a cop and he knew they could look after themselves. Trust me Murphy, this makes sense. As he had ben speaking, a young man had been edging nearer to them. Now he spoke.  
Excuse me. Am I right in thinking you're here for Ray?  
Yeah. Do you have anything for him? The man threw a nervous glance at Murphy . He took the hint and walked off, apparently interested in the flower bed by the side of the precinct building. Bodie watched him for a few seconds and then turned back to the younger man.  
  
Can you... can you tell me your full name please? As a precaution? Bodie was almost amused by the nervousness betrayed by the man's voice.  
William Andrew Philip Bodie, he reeled off, his expression one of distaste.  
All the princes? Bodie immediately recognised the line and knew what he had to say.  
Yeah. I was such a regal looking baby. The man smiled and visibly relaxed.  
I'm Morgan, Gareth Morgan. Ray helped me when I was training in the Academy. He came to me a few days ago and asked me to look after a parcel for him. He said not to say anything about it to anyone, not even to say he had come down. He said that if he didn't come to get it, his partner or his boss would come for it. He gave me a picture of his boss so I could recognise him, but all he gave me for you was those lines. I had no idea what you looked like until I saw you just now. He figured you'd know what to say. He went so far as to tell me it was vital to a case he was working on. He said that if no one came for the parcel in seven days to hide it and forget it. This is the seventh day. I was going to throw the whole thing in the Thames tonight. Bodie held up his hand to stem the incessant flow of talk.  
Do you have the parcel with you? Gareth shook his head.   
It's in my car.  
Within seconds, they were walking over to a red Daimler in the parking lot.  
That's the kinda car Ray'd love to get his hands on, he remarked, as Gareth opened the boot.  
He did, came the reply. It's only thanks to Ray the thing runs. Here it is. He straitened out and handed Bodie a lumpy package. The paper was held on by a copious amount of sellotape and it was clear that Doyle had wrapped it in a hurry.  
Thanks Gareth. I'll be sure to contact you and let you know how every thing turns out, he shouted over his shoulder, already running back to his own car. Murphy had the engine running and was driving back to CI5's headquarters before Bodie had closed his door.  
Give me the R/T, Bodie demanded.  
3.7 to Alpha One. Come in Alpha One.  
Alpha One here. Go ahead 3.7. Any luck?  
Plenty. I've got the evidence, papers, tapes, photos. More than enough to convict the whole gang.  
Good work Bodie. Get back here as quick as you can. We've got to organise some sort of operation to get Doyle back and the gang in custardy if it's at all possible. Bodie snorted.  
I'd settle for the first if the second messes up our plans to much.  
So would I lad, but we've got to think carefully. I'm sure we can manage both.  
Yes sir. We'll think about it on the way. 3.7 out.  
  
I'm not going to quit. I'm not going to quit. I'm not going to quit.' Each word was repeated and carefully pronounced, although they had long ago lost all meaning.  
I'm not going to quit. I'm not going to quit. I'm not going to quit.' He steadfastly ignored all outside noise, focused only on his desperate mantra. He forced himself to keep breathing, a steady rhythm, in time with his mental chant. He heard the door opening and found himself focusing on the hurried conversation taking place.  
They're not going to find this place. We've got nothing to worry about. The only lead they had was the pub and they did that over days ago. Now, the Major says they've got the evidence and I believe him. He says he's willing to hand it over to us in a fair trade. That I don't believe. He's asked me to give him another twenty four hours to set up the time and place. Now I believe that's a stall. But I said he can have that, provided the information comes no later than that. All we have to do is sit tight for another twenty four hours at the most. We go to the meeting and grab the evidence. Then we kill Ray and while they're worrying about him, we get out. It's perfectly simple. There came a few answering mumbles but Doyle tuned them out. He returned to concentrating on his breathing. If he kept breathing, he was still alive and whilst he was alive, there was still a chance Bodie could rescue him.  
  
All right people, we've got an address. It's mentioned several times in the evidence Doyle's gathered and it's a safe bet that's where they're hiding now. Cowley looked round at his men. All looked back at him with clear gazes. He smiled to himself, even for unknown faces, they pushed themselves. For one of their own, they would go all out with no hesitation and no regrets.  
Well, what are we waiting for gentlemen? At that, every man present stood and began checking his side arm. Then they split in to their pairs and headed down to the car pool. There was a spark of tension in the air that seemed to grow the closer they got to the country house they were headed for. By the time they reached the turnoff, every one of them was ready for action, their training mixing with their instincts to such a degree that none of them truly realised when they slipped off the safety of their gun. The same could be said of when they stopped, just before the last corner in the road. There was no signal, again, their training told their instincts what to do. They crept up to the gates leading to the small house, each of them fully disguised by the hazy light. No casual observer could have told them apart from the long shadows the dusk had thrown over the land and they took every advantage they could get. The darker shadows provided perfect cover on all sides of the house and they split in to groups, some taking the front, the others creeping stealthily round to the back.  
It was a sign of hugely successful training that even now, they needed no signal to act. After a suitably long lapse of time, Murphy kicked the front door in and any one listening would have heard an echo, barely a second later, from the back. Acting on pure instinct, sharply honed by their training, Bodie had matched Murphy's actions perfectly, and with a unison borne from past experience that no amount of training can ever produce, they quickly searched the ground floor of the house. They had been closely followed into the house by the rest of the group, and now they all headed up the stairs, some covering, some running. At the first floor,half the group splintered off and ran to check each room. The other half continued up to the attic. Without a pause, Bodie kicked the door and ran in with his gun drawn, stopping at the sight that met him.  
Barry was in a corner of the room, holding Doyle up in front of him, pushing a gun into his side. More bruises had been added to the ones they had originally seen and it was obvious he was only just conscious. Two of the thugs Doyle had pictures of were lying on the floor, blood running freely from bullet holes in their heads. The third, the only one they had a definite name for, was standing as close to the wall as he could manage.  
Hello Barry, said Cowley, in a cheery, conversational tone. I wasn't expecting to see you around.  
No I know you weren't. You were only to happy thinking I was dead weren't you. Well, you should never get to complacent in a job like yours.  
Oh no, I was never happy thinking you were dead. I was happy thinking you were working for me and training my operatives. But you changed all that Barry. And you, he turned suddenly to Mike. We know all about you Mike West. Do you think that you're making it easier for yourself by standing by this maniac? Mike shook his head.  
I'm not standing by him! He tried to kill me!  
Damn right I did. I can't have people hindering my escape can I? So saying, he pulled the gun away from Doyle, fired at Mike, and then returned the gun to Doyle's side. Even Bodie hadn't anticipated the move and they could only watch as Mike crumpled slowly to the floor.  
C'mon Major. You know I've got you beat. Let me out of here and you get your man back. Perfectly simple.  
I can't do that Barry and you know it.  
You better Major. He pushed the gun harder in to Doyle's side and a slight groan told every one present it was hurting him. Cowley risked a glance over at Bodie and saw that his knuckles were white with the tightness of the grip he had on his gun.  
Bodie here is a class A marksman, you know that. Do you really think he can't just shoot you now?  
Why doesn't he then? If he's so sure he can make the shot, why doesn't he take it?  
Because I've told him not to unless it's absolutely necessary. I don't think you really want me to let him shot you do you? Barry's eye's were flickering between Bodie and Cowley and it was clear that he was being affected by what Cowley was saying. At that moment, Doyle slumped down in Barry's arms, the fight to stay conscious having been waged and lost. Surprised by the sudden shift of weight, Barry's finger tightened on the trigger. Cowley and Bodie both noticed the action, but Bodie reacted first. His aim was true and before Barry had time to notice the shot had ben fired, he had slumped down to the floor, dropping Doyle as he did.  
Bodie was there to catch his partner, leaving Cowley and the others to deal with Barry and the bodies of the gang as best they could. His attention was focused solely on his partner.  
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that someone was talking to him. Someone he knew he should be glad to hear.  
It was a pitiful croak and Bodie winced when he heard it.  
Don't try to talk sunshine. We'll have you out of here in a minute. He carried on talking, but Doyle didn't here anything else he said. Convinced now that he was finally safe, he allowed himself to relax, finally letting his awareness slip away.  
  
The sun was shining, making the city look clean and tidy. It made the pedestrians smile as they walked around the streets and it made the drivers wind down their windows and let the wind ruffle their hair. But this was unnoticed by Bodie. He sat by the window, staring across the room with unseeing eyes. Visitors came and left again. Some tried to talk to him, but he was listening for one voice only. The voice he had heard in the country house. The voice he had missed for the last two weeks or so. The constant beeping of the instruments that the doctors seemed to find so encouraging or reassuring had long since been tuned out, along with other voices. Even Cowley had gone unobserved. All Bodie heard was the laboured breathing of his partner. The pain was being controlled by drugs, but Bodie was sure he saw faint traces of it etched on his best friends face. With a sound that was half way between a sigh and a sob, he lowered his head in to his hands. He sat like that while the nurses came to check the monitors and while the doctors came to check their patient. No one tried to disturb him. They knew from experience that not the slightest bit of attention would be given to them. So they went about their duties quietly and efficiently, many believing that the man in the chair was little more than a body guard to the man in the bed. None of them had the faintest idea just how deeply the friendship of the two man ran.  
  
Frankly sir I'm worried about 3.7. He hasn't left the hospital since Doyle was admitted. I know that I'm fairly new here and don't know them as well as you do but I know that Bodie is not taking this well and I know that he can't carry on like he is. Cowley looked at the young women sitting in front of him and sighed with resignation. He knew she was right, but he didn't know how any one could get Bodie to change how he was acting.  
Well what do you suggest I do? Dr. Ross blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting to get Cowley to agree with her so easily.  
Well, I... I would suggest getting him away from the hospital first. Then, find him something to do, something to keep him busy, take his mind off Doyle.  
Damit women, do you know what you're saying? Bodie and Doyle are partners. They stick together. Bodie wont leave Doyle and he certainly isn't going to stop thinking about him! As always when annoyed or excited, Cowley's accent became more pronounced, serving to carry his annoyance over to Dr. Ross very clearly.  
The only reason that I'm not there sitting next to that bed myself is that I have this entire department to run. It's not going to run as well with my two top agents out and the rest worrying about them but we have no choice but to try. Now, if you've nothing sensible to offer, leave me to my work and get back to you're own office.  
The sheer force of exasperation behind his words was so strong that Dr. Ross was halfway to her office before she even realised she had stood up.  
If Bodie and Doyle have to put up with that all the time it's no wonder they stick together so much. They need to stop each other getting blown over by the backlash! Dr. Ross was still occupied by the worry that was plaguing her mind concerning Bodie's attitude. If she had been concentrating a little more, she may have noticed the real concern that was lying beneath the thick layer of anger in the controller's voice.  
  
Pain. No, not so much pain as, distracting aches. Still, he was unwilling to allow himself to wake up, convinced it was just a trick, certain that the pain would come back full force if he opened his eyes. But then he remembered a voice full of concern and fear. A voice he had been hoping to hear, but why? Then he remembered. If he was recalling real events, then he wasn't trapped with Barry and Miss Devins anymore. He forced himself to try and remember his rescue more clearly, but found his mind hopelessly confused. The only thing he could do to confirm or disprove the memories was to open his eyes. Despite the growing certainty he had been rescued, he was still reluctant, still fearful of the pain. But if he had been rescued, then Bodie would be there.  
He opened his eyes. Bodie was there. Sitting by the side of the bed as though he had been planted there. Doyle had the uncomfortable feeling that he had been in hospital for a long time, and the strong belief that Bodie had not left for the duration.  
Mornin' sunshine. His voice was weak, but enough to wake his partner, who had clearly programmed his mind to respond to nothing else.  
Doyle nearly laughed at the surprise in his partner's voice. A smile formed on his lips, a mere echo of his normal grin, but it got a response from the man sitting next to him.  
How you feelin' sunshine? Doyle grimaced at the question and Bodie laughed.  
Sorry. Force of habit.  
Another grin flittered across Doyle's face, weak as the one before, but a grin none the less. A grin Bodie had been waiting to see for almost two weeks now. He sank back in to the uncomfortable plastic chair, relief flooding through him as he watched Doyle slip back in to a restful sleep. A sigh escaped his mouth as he thought of how long he had been plagued by nightmares in his own vain attempts to sleep. Bodie allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction as his eyes began to close and his last conscious thought was of the dining room table, and of how long it would take the two of them to put it back together.  
  
Epilogue  
  
It was two weeks before Doyle was discharged from the hospital. Bodie had spent as much of his time there as he could, especially after Cowley mentioned that Barry may have had other gangs operating in conjunction with the Devins one. It was Bodie who drove Doyle home and it was Bodie who hung around to keep an eye on him.  
Other CI5 operatives called in when they could and formed a steady trickle of visitors to the pair. A week after he was discharged, Doyle reported to Macklin for a week long training course. Bodie worked miracles to get to the warehouse in time to go to the local pub with him after each day. Of course the fact that Cowley had him on surveillance until Doyle was back on active duty may have helped.  
Even before the week was out, Macklin told Doyle he was ready for duty again and as soon as the week was over, Cowley put the duo on an assignment concerning a bomber that he believed was connected to a top man somewhere in the Government.  
Just like old times hey sunshine? quipped Bodie as he steered his car away from the curb, tyres screeching as was his want. Doyle just grinned and then winced as his eye caught the position of the needle on the speedometer. Bodie caught look.  
Cowley said as fast as we could didn't he? Anyway, I always wanted to be a racing driver.  
  
End  
  
Well? If you don't tell me what you think of it, I wont know how to make me next attempt at writing something like this readable will I?  
So get reviewing.  
  
Please? ^___^


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